


Family Reunion

by weatherflonium



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: F/F, Family Reunions, Forbidden-Template Babies, Immortality, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Old Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:56:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6524800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatherflonium/pseuds/weatherflonium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mokou still doesn't know how to feel about the growing Gensokyo branch of the Fujiwara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Reunion

What the villagers now called the Fujiwara estate was very different from the ramshackle hut it had been built around. Some nights, especially if Kaguya’d been aiming for her head, Mokou caught herself wandering the central grounds, looking for her familiar shack and worn futon, only to stumble into the edge of a large patio, or (on one especially embarrassing occasion) the water garden.

Families grew and changed so fast. Mokou had seen her father’s clan rise and fall from a distance; it was a different thing to be caught up in her own. It had only felt like yesterday that she was lying next to Keine, a big, dumb smile plastered on her face as their infant daughter prodded at Mokou’s finger. Now, three or four whole generations of Fujiwara had descended on the estate, all no doubt expecting some appearance from her.

Mokou hadn’t passed through the front doors of the estate in decades. She’d objected to the when one of her daughters had wanted them put in; they called too much attention to people coming and going. Mokou missed the shack; no need for an ostentatious greeting hall there, just roll up the futon and slide out a table. She was more at home slipping through the servants’ entrances, even if it took her years of grumbling to be at home with there being servants’ entrances for her to slip through.

She’d found one of her favourite hiding places just between the kitchens and the rest of the estate, tucked away behind a door. It was quiet save for the occasional servant with a tray (from which Mokou could always snag some appealing hors d’oeuvre), and she’d recently moved in one of the smaller, more comfortable chairs from the dining room. She could hear the crowd from here; the main anteroom, outside the nearest door. sounded like the Human Village’s market on a busy day. If she strained, she could even pick up on the pleasantries and chitchat, snatching pieces of the lives of her massive, ever-growing family from the air.

She was roused from her eavesdropping by the sound of knuckles on wood, and she turned to face a wrinkled old woman, smiling up at her from a wheelchair pushed by a young white-haired girl Mokou didn’t know. The girl was looking at Mokou with a face somewhere between confusion and awe. The old woman smiled and waved the girl off, and she ducked back off through the door.

“Keine.” Mokou said, taking the woman’s shaking, outstretched hand.

“Still hiding away back here?” the old woman asked, a wry grin on her face. “If I didn’t know you any better I’d mistake you for someone’s sulking child.”

Mokou forced a laugh. “Some days you’d be right.” They sat in silence then, listening to the ebb and flow of the people through the door as more and more filed through into the other rooms, forming into chunks to discuss shared interests or narrower family matters. Several carts of food clattered past their seats, heavily loaded and seeming like they’d tip over at any moment. “Are you sure you don’t want to be out there with them all?”

“Someone’s got to look after you.” She smiled again, squeezing Mokou’s hand once. “I can’t imagine how it must feel to see things like these.”

“No,” Mokou said simply, “you can’t.” They’d had this conversation so many times before, and Mokou didn’t feel like retreading the details. They sat in silence again, listening to the throngs in the anteroom finally faded. “I suppose you’re going to ask me to go make a speech or something.”

“Not yet.” The old womnn laughed. “Eventually though, yes. Watching you stumble through your greetings has become something of a family tradition, and it’s not going to lapse on my watch.”

Mokou groaned. “If everyone knows I’m awful at it, why make me do it?

“You’re still the head of the family, even if you don’t act like it.” She nudged Mokou weakly with an elbow. “You of all people ought to know about the importance of family tradition.” Mokou fought down an angry retort, though her scowl showed through enough. “I’m sorry, that was callous.”

Mokou nodded once, and the silence returned, hanging heavier in the air as the stream of new arrivals faded to a slow trickle, and the crowds swept towards the dining hall. “I was so angry, when your mother said what they’d named you.” Mokou said quietly. “I thought they were trying to replace her.”

The woman chuckled weakly, squeezing Mokou’s hand. “You know that’s not what they meant.”

“I know, I know. I’m used to it now.” Mokou ruffled the woman’s hair, then smiled at her weakly. “She’d have been glad to see you have it.”

“Thanks, Grandma.” The woman wheeled herself back, slowly rotating the chair to the door. “Now come on, you can’t expect me to wheel myself in there when there’s a healthy young woman like you around.” Mokou started some grumbled objection, but stopped at her granddaughter’s pointed glare. “You know as well as I do that Grandmother would’ve wanted you out there with the rest of us, even if it’s just for a little bit.”

Mokou grumbled, but didn’t say anything. She stood, took the back of the wheelchair, and headed out to meet the family yet again.

**Author's Note:**

> had this idea when I was sick, haven't had much time to polish it but I felt like writing it out while it was freshish


End file.
